


Dark Lord Frodo

by Aria_Breuer



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Lord Frodo Baggins, Drabble Set, Gen, Light Frodo Baggins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Breuer/pseuds/Aria_Breuer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This drabble set focuses on Frodo Baggins, the new Dark Lord of Mordor... and possibly other lands as well. But is there a chance for redemption for this hobbit? The tale is about to begin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I'm Invincible!"

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimers:** All canon material from _The Lord of the Rings_ trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers and Turbine. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble collection is my own making, and not part of the 100 Drabble Challenge.
> 
> This drabble set idea was started by a conversation between me and Eldhoron. These are twelve drabbles that show and represent Frodo as a Dark Lord. It should be a very interesting story. Inspiration comes from the stories available that involve Frodo Baggins as evil and also as a Dark Lord. Read on below to witness the horrendous, and terrifying things, that make up Dark Lord Frodo. :)
> 
> Quote comes from the movie “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”.

**“I’m Invincible!”**

**_Word Count:_ ** **469**

Darkness brewed from the fiery pits of Mount Doom. The One Ring’s gold band vanished into the hot liquid below. Frodo’s blue eyes stared up at his friend. He had been on the ledge since his fight with Gollum, which ended with Gollum and the Ring’s deaths in the flaming hot liquid. Frodo was now faced with a decision: he could let go or he could stay and bear the burdens that lay ahead for him. He chose the latter upon taking Sam’s hand, who shortly hoisted him back onto the ledge. It was in that moment, when he was on the ledge, that the hobbit took echoed steps across the blackened road. He didn’t know what was causing this change, or the fact that, when he checked his maimed hand, a fiery circular imprint rested on his right middle stump where his finger was previously.

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam squeaked. “What is it?” He scurried over to his friend, his best friend. “Mr. Frodo.” But Frodo gripped his shoulder too tightly. There was a flaming sensation in the Ring-bearer’s eyes. A fire he couldn’t put out just yet.

“Come on, Sam,” Frodo said, playfully. He led his gardener and friend back to the yawning entrance. The Nazgûl were in full retreat and Sauron’s dark tower crashed into several tiny pieces. And yet, even he didn’t feel the need to retreat just yet. Darkness still loomed around him and the land of Mordor. He was amazed at how much the land still retained its dark hold over him.

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam chirped beside him. “What should we do?”

He cocked his head. “The only thing we can do.” He paused, letting the moment sink in. “Sauron is gone, and yet we’re still here.” He leapt from one rock to the next. “The land belongs to me now. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked, troubled by what he saw. “There’s a darkness in you. I thought the Ring was destroyed.”

“It was Sam, but here we stand.” Frodo gazed up at him. “There’s a new dark lord governing over Middle-earth.” He cocked his head again from side to side. “Well, that dark lord is me.”

“Mr. Frodo, you can’t possibly…”

“Sam, you will either join me or face the consequences.” He grinned menacingly, adding in softly, “Or you can face the price that awaits you. It’s your choice after all.”

“I want no part in this plan. Mr. Frodo, come back!” Sam heaved. “Please, come back to the Shire! Surely, this place – this desolate land – is not your home.”

“Oh.” Frodo said, purring. “Is it now.” He stood on the highest rock platform, belting with full pride. “I’m invincible! Do you hear that, Strider?!” He hissed in a soft voice. “Let no one take this crown from me.”


	2. Being a Dark Lord Isn't Easy

**2:**

**Being a Dark Lord Isn’t Easy**

**_Word Count:_ ** **486**

Dark Lord Frodo’s hobbit house was now complete with two stories, decked in blood red tapestries and rugs. The walls, ceiling and floor were in shades of grey and black, while along the walls were painted portraits of his previous lovers. His iron throne sat in the grand chamber, where portraits of himself hung on the wall behind the chair.

It was on this throne that Frodo sat. His left side leaned against the throne’s arm, while his right leg extended out a little way. His facial expression was filled with mirth, the darkness lingering inside him, causing much nervousness from his new citizens and bodyguards. He was the Dark Lord of Mordor, but he wasn’t too far from his dealings with petty prisoners, hanging on his every single word or phases that spat out of his mouth.

No. He was a decent dark lord. Did he show mercy? Of course he did. Did he favor realistic viewpoints from his allies? Yes. Did he let anyone who showed him pity or grievances understand his self-righteous being? Well… yes and no. He was a dark lord after all. Even so, he now had the power to change things. Those changes included expanding Mordor beyond Minas Morgul. So how could he begin this mission? He didn’t know… he yawned, finding the hobbit before him offered too much grievance.

“Sam, take this hobbit away,” Frodo said, bored.

“Yes Mr. Frodo,” Sam said. The dark lord hobbit watched his gardener, friend and bodyguard drag the hobbit peasant away.

“Pitiful,” Dark Frodo screeched, slamming his fist on the throne’s cushioned arm. “Haven’t I done enough for these peasants? Oh.” He massaged his forehead, wondering when the day was done.

“You could try being calmer.” It was Merry Brandybuck, the same hobbit who, like Pippin Took, agreed to be Frodo’s servants and bodyguards, as long as they agreed to trade their swords in for treats and delectable goodies.

“Merry, I’m all right,” Frodo said, tensely. His voice purred with amusement, as he spoke again. “We’ll have to show these peasants whose boss. But then…” he huffed, “Well, I will see to it that these peasants get compensated with two gold coins.” He smirked. “See. I am a generous dark lord.”

“But not always the brightest at cards,” Pippin whispered. Frodo slowly craned his head towards his two cousins. Anger burned brightly in his blue eyes.

“I’ll see to that, Pippin.” Frodo paused. He belted with intense force. “Now go take care of Sam and anyone else who tries to find their way into my halls! The throne room’s closed until later notice!” As he stormed out of the throne room, he heard Pippin’s whisper to their cousin Merry,

“He does make a fine dark lord.”

“Indeed he does, Pippin,” Merry said last. Frodo heard it correct: Merry and Pippin were impressed with his noble standard. Good. Then he was on a roll.


	3. The Dark Lair of Malice

**3:**

**The Dark Lair of Malice**

**_Word Count:_ ** **403**

Frodo slowly drew his chilled breath, meditating on the dark fractures within the starlit night. It was inside this dark chamber, stories below his darkened hobbit home where he found the most serene tendril of malice. He bided his time, at last closing his eyes.

All around him were flames. Angry flames that drew the swirling light intertwined with the smoky darkness. He moved about the vivid dream, feeling every swirling sensation that became hatred, anger, resentment, pain… sheer amounts of pain. The screams of his enemies and those who opposed his rule.

He scaled up the dark obsidian stairway. Until at last, he came to the spiky, swirling throne room of the former dark lord Sauron. Here he was at long last. Enemy versus enemy, now friend or foe. Frodo did not know, but this former dark lord was hot with fury and anger. The hobbit knew he was in the right place.

“Sauron, I didn’t mean…” he spoke much calmer than he expected. Facing his fears, he declared himself, “But I am the new dark lord Sauron. I know why you came here.”

“Do you?” Sauron’s voice purred, deep and resonate. “I know why you have come as well. The One Ring,” he revealed an almost invisible band encasing his finger, “this ring is mine. You took it from me. But now you have the chance to take my place, become the dark lord I failed to become.”

“What would you have me do? Start over? Refurnish Mordor…”

“NO!” Sauron calmed down slightly. “You may go about this as you wish. I will be watching until your reigns falls into the wrong hands. Other worlds will come, seeking out Middle-earth. You must show them your malice, Frodo Baggins. If you fail, Mordor fails and the heroes take over, once more drawing out the darkness and bringing in the light. Go NOW!”

Frodo was jolted out of the vision. What had he just seen? What did he know…? He felt power restoring inside him. This was neat.

“Cool,” Frodo said, delighted by this new power. Now, he at last could set things straight in the Shire, Middle-earth and Mordor. His grinned stretched out, adding to the menace he was about to inflict on his friends and victims. It was here and now that he felt like a true dark lord. A lesson that he would hold most dear to his blackening heart.


	4. Refurnishing Mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Eldhoron. This idea actually came from one of his reviews in this story. It’s quite a brilliant idea, to say the least, and it fits for Dark Lord Frodo. Added inspiration came from the ABC television show “Galavant” and one of its songs, titled “No One but You”. Read on below. :)

**4:**

**Refurnishing Mirrors**

**_Word Count:_ ** **537**

Frodo, the Dark Lord he must point out, tapped his hairy foot in aggravation. How long did it take to have his mirrors re-polished? Did he have to trust his cousins and his gardener to do all the hard, manual labor? Grrr! He was too impatient for right now. How long did the task take? Hours? Days? Weeks?

His fist slammed against his hand. For a moment, he raised his hands to the heavens, hoping that some inspiration would turn up. Ohhh. He couldn’t take this any longer. Scrambling to his feet, he barged into the hall of mirrors, where the polishers were busy polishing the glass mirrors.

“How long must this take, men?! How long before you finish a bleeding, bloody mirror? Grrr!” Frodo collapsed onto a wooden bench.

“Dark Lord Frodo,” Merry started, “couldn’t you maybe – oh I don’t know – wait another few seconds? We’re almost done.”

“Yes,” Pippin said, panting, “polishing mirrors takes a lot of time and energy.”

“They’re not just ordinary mirrors, Pippin.” Frodo sighed in sheer amusement. “They’re my livelihood.”

“You do realize how arrogant you sound,” Merry mentioned.

Frodo sneered. “Then get me those bloody mirrors done! Ohhhhh man!” He couldn’t stand this no longer. Standing up, he told the staff. “Get out! Get – out. Leave me to my mirrors.”

“Come on Pippin.” Merry said, leading Pippin out of the hall.

“You’ll regret this, Mr. Frodo,” Sam told him.

“Leave me, Sam,” Frodo said.

“Fine. I’m done,” Sam said, taking the bucket and brush out of the hall.

Now it was just Frodo and the mirrors. As he looked into one of the mirrors, it changed. The reflection turned to him with a cold but truthful gaze. It was as if the reflection bore into his heart and soul.

“What do you want?” Frodo asked the mirror.

“Simple,” Mirror Frodo jeered, “to rule your kingdom, your reign. It will topple over and you with it.” He giggled behind his teeth. “Just look at you. Innocent Frodo Baggins.” He moved his head to one side. “Well, you were innocent. You still have it in you. And don’t deny it. Reflections reveal so much about a person. Their likes and dislikes. Intrigues. You seek a woman. Let me help you with that.”

“I’ve had plenty of lovers in the past and present,” Dark Frodo said, nearly smiling.

“Who all dumped you.” Reflection Frodo stared right back at him. “You’re nothing without Sauron, as long as you are the dark lord. But all of that could change the moment you slink back into heroics. You want to rule this kingdom. Let me help you.” The mirror’s last statement hit Frodo hard in the chest. “I am you and you are me. Mirrors don’t lie. You can pretend to be a dark lord, but it will all fall away unless I can assist you.”

“What must I do to keep my crown, my reign, everything?” Frodo asked the mirror.

“Be you and always triumph over your enemies, Frodo Baggins.” The reflection shifted back into him. “Remember to be you.”

“And that’s just what I’ll do.” Frodo said in triumph. “Nothing will stand in my way now.” He added last, more resounding than ever, “Nothing.”


	5. Training Orcs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for this drabble came from the movie “Eragon”, due to one similar scene. Even though this drabble is different from “Eragon”.

**5:**

**Training Orcs**

**_Word Count:_ ** **520**

“Come on!” Frodo roared at the grunting Orcs. He calmed down some, until he picked up one of the blunt axes. “It’s beautiful. Like a piece…” he grinned in wicked delight, “…of tin.” He dropped the axe on the Orc’s boot. He hissed in a playful manner, “Does that hurt?” He spoke more calmly and endearing, “Then you know what it feels like to suffer day by day, in the exact same spot.” He picked up the axe with ease, slamming it on the table a moment later. “Keep working.” He faced the Orcs, shouting demands, “Well, what are you waiting for? Move Orcs, now!”

As he walked around, his attention was drawn to his friends. Or who he thought were his friends… no. He mustn’t think that way. Oh, these emotions. Why did they build up so much?

“I think that Frodo, if you settled down,” Pippin announced himself. Frodo craned his head at his three hobbit friends.

“What would you have me do? Start another war?” Frodo asked, tensely.

“Mr. Frodo, you’re the Dark Lord of Mordor.” Sam added. “You have all this power to make change, and yet you’ve hardly started wreaking havoc on civilizations.” Frodo looked away. He couldn’t bear to look at his friend’s calming gaze. Something about him stirred. An old feeling that he hardly remembered. In the two years’ time he’d been a Dark Lord… it was as if his old self yearned to resurface… no, he needed to push those thoughts away. But Sam… Sam persisted, “The Mr. Frodo I know is still in there somewhere. Mr. Frodo, you’re a hobbit and a hero. Surely you must know this.”

“Sam stop!” Dark Frodo couldn’t believe this. His old self was pushing out. He spoke in a hissing, soft voice. “Just stop, Sam.” He shook his head. “Don’t give me that look. I know who I am.”

“Or who you once were,” Merry said, serious.

“You’re not helping!” Frodo said, calmly. “I’ll get this mess straightened out yet.” The moment he arrived at the doorstep, Frodo dashed into the entrance hall, slamming the front round door shut. He couldn’t stand to look at anyone. Why, oh why, did he halt the polishing of those mirrors? He knew the danger behind it, and yet he did it anyway. Sometimes he could just be so… the mirrors slammed backwards, falling and falling… and not smashing to pieces. Frodo sighed in relief. But when he peered into the mirror, he saw a different face: a clean hobbit’s face and brown hair. It was like looking at himself.

“Look inside yourself, Frodo Baggins,” his mirror self said to him, “You are capable of great things. You’re a hero of the Shire. Don’t let Sauron corrupt you… again. You know who you are.”

“Stop!” Dark Frodo smacked the mirror to the floor. Again it didn’t smash. But the truth was coming out: he was about to lose everything he worked so hard to build. He couldn’t have that. No. Not if the years tore him away from all that he had. He knew who he was. Didn’t he?


	6. The Beast Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this drabble has a Beauty and the Beast theme to it. Let’s see how this turns out. :)

**6:**

**The Beast Inside**

**_Word Count:_ ** **448**

Frodo slept restlessly that night. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t wake up. The folds of the nightmare were eclipsed by Sauron’s flaming red eye. The lividness of the dream was intoxicating. His mind felt drunk with the power of darkness. Sauron gripped his shoulders, making it difficult for him to move, difficult for him to think.

“No! NO, no, no! Please stop!” Frodo belted out in a fiery rage. It was a rage not his own. It was as if Sauron was searching for something.

“Even you cannot control the monster inside…” Sauron’s voice drifted through him.

Frodo stood up, moving off the bed and towards a polished glass mirror. Finally, the mirrors were polished. But the face he saw before him was a hairy werewolf-like monster. It was himself, staring him in the eyes, not wanting to release him.

“You know who you are,” the werewolf reflection growled. “Do something!”

“Ahhh! NO! No,” Frodo screamed. He was terrified of what he became. The reflection shifted in the wind, revealing a dark lord appearance, with his sleek curly hair tied by his neck and donned in a long black trench coat, with the neck curved close to his neck.

“You know who you are,” Dark Lord Frodo responded. “Now DO something about it!”

“Wait… stop. Please,” Frodo said. He jumped back, revealing in the mirror his true self. He wasn’t a monster. He was the hobbit who started in the Shire, filled with peace and innocence.

“You’re not a monster, Frodo Baggins,” his reflection told him, calm and with confidence. “Remember who you are. This dark lord you isn’t like you. Sam is disappointed. Find it inside yourself to turn back, or be consumed by the darkness.” He spoke last. “Wake up.”

And Frodo did wake up. He felt changed. For a moment, he thought he was himself again. He remembered. Mordor was his land. His friends were his servants and loyal bodyguards. He growled in fury. He wasn’t about to lose everything yet. He would have his revenge on those who betrayed him… starting with Aragorn. He would wreak havoc upon the lands yet. Of course he would. He was Dark Lord Frodo. What did he miss?

“Pippin, where’s my coffee?” Frodo shouted in arrogant fury. “And my hot water.”

“Coming Frodo,” Pippin said, taking the tea kettle.

“Thank you,” he said, glaring at his cousin.

“You look good this morning, Frodo.” Pippin spoke, his hands shaking. “Something’s changed about you. You look like yourself.”

“I said GO!” Frodo said, waving a hand causing the door to shut after Pippin left the chamber. Oh, no. He wasn’t about to lose everything. He knew who he was. Didn’t he?


	7. Oh Nazgûl, My Nazgûl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea came from Eldhoron, which makes sense since the Nazgûl haven’t yet made an appearance. Now we get to see them in action. :)

**7:**

**Oh Nazgûl, My Nazgûl**

**_Word Count:_ ** **438**

Frodo sat on his iron throne in faint amusement. Where were Sauron’s personal guards? Did they not receive the memo, telling them to meet him in his new Bag End Barad-dur? Surely, it was only a polite gesture.

The doors flew open. Frodo stood up, admiring how late the remaining Nazgûl were, as they glided in, hoods and cloaks hiding their appearance. It worked for him. Dark Frodo knew what he was doing.

“You wanted to speak with us,” one of the Nazgûl said.

“Yes. It’s an important matter.” Frodo said, gesturing with a hand for one of the chefs to bring out the drinks. He raised his glass before the Nazgûl. “To victory.”

“To victory!” the Nazgûl screamed in unison. But as they did, they fell to their knees, coughing and sputtering. To Frodo’s amazement, the Nazgûl were weakened, but were alive. This displeased him. He thought they were… no.

“Who changed the glasses?” Frodo asked, determined.

“I did, Mr. Frodo,” Sam cried.

“Why would you do that? I had everything under control,” Frodo said, seething with determination and malice.

“I think it was right nice of you to not let us finish polishing those mirrors.” Sam told him. “You’ve changed, Mr. Frodo, all because of the One Ring’s power.”

“Do you think I’m joking, Sam?” Frodo asked, dead serious. “I intended to get rid of those Nazgûl, but you… you…” The sound of swords caught his attention. He turned out in time to find Merry weakening the Nazgûl with his Westernesse sword. Frodo was stunned. “Why did you do that for? I have my own way of dealing with them.”

“Then do it already.” Merry said. “I just did half your work, you realize.”

“I do not _need_ your assistance,” Frodo seethed, already furious.

“Frodo, you look changed,” Pippin said. “It’s as if Sauron’s hold on you is weakening.” He admitted, curiously, “You don’t look like a dark lord now.”

“What?” Frodo said. His clothes were changing. It was as if… no. He couldn’t be changing back into the hobbit he once was. He needed to look into a mirror, but these mirrors now showed him the darkness, as if he was born to be a dark lord. He squirmed and wriggled until finally… finally… he was weak and his old self again.

He awoke with much needed rest. He was Frodo Baggins now, but Mordor. He peered out at the bright light. Mordor no longer held a dark haze, but a bright morning sky. He sighed in relief. He wasn’t cut out to be a dark lord. What if he couldn’t return home? What then?


	8. Is This A Dream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So in this drabble and the next ones to come, everything’s in reverse with Light Frodo and Dark Frodo.

**8:**

**Is This A Dream?**

**_Word Count:_ ** **487**

“Frodo… Frodo, you’re awake,” It was Aragorn’s voice.

“What… I was the Dark Lord of Mordor. Everyone…” Frodo huffed. He checked himself over again. He was sweaty, but at least the light was returning to his eyes. Slowly, and with Aragorn’s help, he drank down some cool liquid. It tasted like water, but had a hint of herbs in the ingredient.

“He’s delirious, Aragorn.” It was Gandalf. “If I hadn’t saved him from Mordor, he would have very nearly…”

“What?” Frodo asked, confused. He rested his head against the pillow, smacking into something firm. “OW!” He turned his gaze to Sam. There was concern in his eyes, too. “Sam, I’m sorry.” He spoke the truth and meant it.

“Mr. Frodo, you need to rest,” Sam said.

“Did I… I didn’t mean… what…” Frodo was unsure what to say. Was the darkness he had inside himself truly gone? He hurt people, didn’t he? How horrid he had become.

“Sleep, Mr. Frodo. Take it easy.” Sam said, calmly. Then he was gone, and Frodo was alone inside the tent.

_Frodo… come here…_

“That voice,” Frodo said, shakily. Slowly, he moved off the bed, only to be greeted by a standing mirror.

_Frodo… I’m right here… don’t you remember me? Frodo…_

“No.” Frodo stared at the mirror. It was himself… at the moment. A swirling purple mist revealed a paler version of himself, wearing a long black trench coat, blood red vest, a dirty dress shirt and darker breeches. Even this reflection had dirty hair on his head and feet. Frodo checked himself. He was cleaned up and wearing white night clothes.

“Frodo, I’ve missed you so much,” the paler version of himself said, excited and purring. His reflection continued. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m Dark Lord you, Frodo. Come back to Mordor with me. We’ll rule Middle-earth with an iron fist.”

“No,” Frodo shook his head at the moving reflection. “No, I’m not you no longer.”

“Well, I’m you.” Dark Lord Frodo told him. “Do you truly want me gone? Then come with me. Face me yourself.”

“I won’t be a part of your schemes no longer,” Frodo said, bravely.

Dark Lord Frodo gave it some thought. “Well, I need you to come anyway. These mirrors…” he cackled wickedly. “They are my home.” He snapped. “So you’re coming either way.” With one jerk, Frodo was thrown through the mirror, entering a darker side of Mordor, complete with an iron hobbit house.

Only Frodo was in the air, above Mordor and into the dark grey clouds. He looked about him. The mirror was behind him. Before him was Dark Frodo, complete with a leather whip. Frodo couldn’t believe it – he was back where he started. How did he… no. He needed to be braver than this. He must, in order to escape this nightmare and return home to the Middle-earth he knew.

It was time to face Dark Lord Frodo.


	9. Light versus Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for this scene, though slightly different, comes from the video game “Kingdom Hearts” and Season 5 of the ABC television show “Once Upon A Time”.

**9:**

**Light versus Dark**

**_Word Count:_ ** **538**

Frodo’s head swam with various cackles from his Dark Lord self. Was he still delirious? He wasn’t thinking straight. The darkness was too much… he was sucked in… there was a ray of hope. His sword Sting blazed bright blue… and found its way into his hand. His friends were with him.

Bravery shielded him from the darkness, as well as hope. He did so many terrible things as the dark lord, but did he still have the courage to face it, drag down the darkness and return to the light? Yes. He was capable of that. His delirium was going away. Readying his sword, he prepared himself for a fight…

A fist crashed against his cheek. He was toppling further and further down. Dark Lord Frodo was on him now, beating him down, shaking him until he was back in the delirium…

_Frodo… face the darkness… beat it… bring back the light… you can do it…_

“Aragorn.” He was momentarily distracted. Dark Lord Frodo was on top of him, beating him further into the emptiness. He wasn’t that strong.

“Mr. Frodo, you have to come back…” Sam’s voice was calling out to him.

“Frodo? Frodo!” Merry and Pippin said in near unison. They were calling out to him, too.

Dark Lord Frodo cackled. “Do you really think your friends will help you?”

“They just did,” Frodo said, leaving the darkness and returning to the light. “I will get better.” He said, bravely, “You no longer control me.” He was in the cloud bank once more.

“Even you can’t defeat the darkness inside us, Frodo Baggins,” Dark Frodo said, climbing up to me. “I own you! I am you! I am the darkness you know.”

“Or what the Ring wanted.” Frodo pointed to a rolling picture, showing his fight against the creature Gollum. So, they were back to this part of the timeline. He pulled Dark Lord Frodo back. He could handle himself now, while the Crack of Mount Doom stood before him. “You see. It wasn’t the Ring and it wasn’t you that pulled me out of this memory. It was Sam and home.” He added, pushing Dark Lord Frodo away. “It was Sam that pulled me back, and my friends. And they’ll do it again.”

All at once, Dark Lord Frodo’s whip clashed against Sting. The whip on the sword, snaking it away from Frodo, Light Frodo’s hand. He was defenseless.

“Even you don’t have the strength to do it, to defeat our darkness.” Dark Lord Frodo said. “It is a part of you.”

“So is the light,” Frodo said. Blasts of light repelled off of him, throwing Dark Lord Frodo into a state of confusion. Now was his chance. He only needed one moment. As his rushed towards Dark Lord Frodo, light and darkness collided, forcing him into a dreamlike state.

He was leaving the darkness. The light was winning. A pillow welcomed him back. It felt so soft, so comfortable. And this time, upon opening his eyes, he was back to the waking world. He felt so changed, as if he wasn’t the same hobbit who left the Shire. He was different in a good way. And that was all he needed to know.


	10. To Wonder Over Many Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this drabble gets a little Sherlock Holmes style woven into it. :)

**10:**

**To Wonder Over Many Things**

**_Word Count:_ ** **432**

_Three Months Later…_

Sam wandered down a corridor, straight to Frodo’s house. He had expected to see his master and best friend up at this hour. It was close to noon. Surely, he couldn’t have slept in. Even Sam would know Frodo was awake by now. But then, it was a relaxing time for everyone… nearly everyone as Aragorn had royal duties to attend to.

At last, he reached the door to Frodo’s house and entered. Only he discovered Frodo was in a fix with several pieces of parchment paper. It was as if the gentle-hobbit had gone… slightly mad. But he couldn’t offend his master.

“Mr. Frodo, what’re you doin’?” Sam asked, stunned. “It’s almost noon. We should meet Aragorn and…”

“Sam, what happened in that dream, this alternate reality, well…” Frodo turned to Sam then, saying, “That other realm, it was so dark.”

“Then why’re you in here, studying dark worlds we shouldn’ study in,” Sam asked, concerned.

“I’m not going to that other realm, Sam,” Frodo said.

“Then what’re you doin’ in here?” he asked, confused.

“Well,” he started to explain, “if there are other worlds, other alternate realities, then why, may I ask, are we still doing in this one?”

“Because this is our reality,” Sam said, rationally.

“We’re in one reality. That dream I was in…” Frodo paused. “It was so real, so clear. There is still a darkness in me, and a lighter side. I can’t escape either one because, in all of us – whoever that is – there’s a lightness and a growing darkness.” He said, serious. “It’s not going to end, and yet, there is still hope. I know that’s what will keep the darkness at bay,” he looked down at the floor, “and my own.” He returned his gaze to Sam, a growing feeling of dread reaching his heart. “I don’t know when it will ever stop, Sam. Dark Lord me was so wicked. I stopped him this time. Who’s to say he won’t come back.”

“Then find that light in you. Maybe if you keep your hopes up, it will stop,” Sam said.

“I hope you’re right, Sam. For all our sakes,” Frodo said. He hoped it just as well that Sam’s words were true. The Ring certainly had its hold on his mind and spirit. He didn’t want to risk Dark Lord Frodo returning. Hopefully, this side of him would stay away for good. But who knew, right? No. He needed to stay with the light, keep up the hope. He would be fine. At least, he hoped he would. Oh dear.


	11. One Step More

**11:**

**One Step More**

**_Word Count:_ ** **491**

Frodo cleaned out Bag End. It was nice to be home again and have friends to count on. What he didn’t account on was meeting his dark lord self once more, through one unpolished mirror.

“Come on, Frodo,” Dark Lord Frodo pleaded in the mirror. “You need me. You can’t go on alone. I can show you great wonders, things you can hardly imagine. Don’t you want that?”

“I have everything I need,” Frodo said, calm but testy. “Right here. Why isn’t that enough for you? It’s plenty for me.”

“You’ll regret this action. All your life, until the Ring is vanquished from your mind, you will still have me around,” Dark Lord Frodo said. “Without me, you’re nothing. How do you think Gollum survived all those years inside a cave? The darkness is in you, too.”

“I often think of Sméagol, but his actions were caused by me and not by fair chance.” Frodo looked away, a tear shedding down his cheek. He wiped the tear off with a sleeve. “We each served our purpose on the quest. The Ring nearly took my life away, but here I am: alive and well.” He gazed at the mirror. “I no longer need you hounding me.”

“Even for a little moment longer,” Dark Lord Frodo chided. “There is a task I need you to do for me, so I can regain my throne and reveal who you truly are. Inside you are always a dark lord.”

“Then show me,” Frodo said, nearly fearing he said something wrong.

“As you wish. Here it is,” Dark Lord Frodo said.

Frodo shielded his eyes, as the world transformed from swallowing darkness to light. He jumped back in shock. He was in Lothlórien, the Golden Wood. And there was the fair haired elf lady, Galadriel.

“You did well, Frodo Baggins,” Galadriel said with a smile. “Very well indeed. The darkness has abated at last.”

“What?” Frodo was stunned. “I’m free.”

“Your dark lord self will return from time to time, and each time you must vanquish him,” she warned. “That is the nature of these mirrors.” She showed him the polished mirrors, including one that half done. “Dark Lord you did not finish polishing this mirror. So, it must be up to you to do this. When you are done, return to me.” She handed to him a brush, already dressed in golden liquid.

“This will work?” Frodo asked, cleaning off the rest of the mirror.

“It should undo what the darkness nearly did to you.” Galadriel nodded. “I wish you luck, Frodo Baggins.”

Taking the Lady’s advice, Frodo scrubbed the mirror. To his surprise, his dark lord self helped him in this task. It seemed as if the darkness was leaving him at last. And finally, the mirror was polished. Frodo saw himself then: a decent, kind hobbit with wounds that were healing. For this time, he hoped, the darkness was leaving him for good.


	12. Epilogue

**12:**

**Epilogue**

**_Word Count:_ ** **358**

Frodo sat down on the wood-planked porch. His legs swayed back and forth, free from walls, but close to the white sandy shore. He had been in the Undying Lands for two years, traveled to Valinor the previous year. He missed his friends. He longed to see them again. At the same time, the darkness had abated some, but took on a new form. A form he was about to meet…

“Come with me… come…” a hooded figure approached, his voice familiar to the gentle-hobbit’s ears. “I know you want to… taste the darkness… Frodo Baggins…” Frodo’s gaze met the figure.

“No. I won’t do it again,” he said, firm and truthful.

“Then what will you do with your time here… you’re nothing without me…”

“I can take care of myself. Eru Ilúvatar will defeat you. He knows it to be true.”

“Then I am nothing more than a husk of what I once was. How you overcame the darkness,” the hooded figure sighed, “it will be a tale for the ages.”

“You’re not reuniting with me. If that’s what you want. It’s done.”

“As am I. Just a lonely husk.” The hooded figure told him. “I wish you had finished polishing that mirror in the Bag End Barad-dur. Our reign would have continued on.”

“You won’t have me.” Frodo looked at him a second time. “Your world is not mine.”

“Think about what you’re saying. If you choose to leave the darkness before it is time, you will lose everything… again.”

Frodo gave it some thought. He chose the light. He didn’t want to become a husk, caught between light and dark. He knew then what he must do.

“I still choose the light.” He sighed. “That darkness was in me before the Ring, when I stole mushrooms off of Farmer Maggot’s land.” He paused. “But I know my place is here, fighting the darkness and living in the light.”

“You are wise.” The husk answered. “I will leave you to your thoughts.” In a whispering wind, the husk was gone. Frodo was alone again. But here, he found peacefulness and hope. He was home.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank those who read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story to the end: aromanticpicard and Aurora_Martell. And thank you readers for reading this tale to the very end. It is much appreciated. :)
> 
> I wrote this drabble collection because I felt the need to explore Frodo Baggins as a Dark Lord. So I guess I came full circle once again. :) See you all in the next story. :)
> 
> Aria Breuer


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